


Narcissus, the Devourer

by nihilBliss



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Horror, Body Modification, Buckets (Homestuck), Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Character Death, Chucklevoodoos, Come Shot, Consensual Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, Inflation, M/M, Magic, Mind Manipulation, Nook Vore, Orgasm Control, Post-Coital Vore, Premature Ejaculation, Snuff, Stalking, Vaginal Fisting, Vaginal Sex, Vore, Wet & Messy, excessive cum, non-consensual vore, predatory behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 03:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20593766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilBliss/pseuds/nihilBliss
Summary: Kothar Pothos has found the perfect color for his next painting. All that's left is to seduce a handsome troll, hypnotize and nook-vore him, and dissolve him into art supplies.Consensual sex with non-consensual, hypnosis-driven vore afterwards. Charity commission for FrigidAdolescent.





	Narcissus, the Devourer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrigidAdolescent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrigidAdolescent/gifts).

> For FrigidAdolescent. Read the tags before proceeding, and if it isn't for you, click away. 
> 
> Remember: nobody can force you to read this.

His name was Laluli Kosmos, and his grubscars were the perfect sky blue for Kothar Pothos' next painting. So as predators do, Kothar watched his prey, learned what he could, took every unfair advantage and left nothing to chance. A stolen diary told Kothar how Laluli's eye wandered after he worked out. They met in the communal ablution trap in the gym, by Kothar's design. A little glamer to draw the eye and a broad chest bared, and Kothar had entranced Laluli.

That's how Kothar liked to pick his lovers and his prey. They always made the first move, and of their own volition, as far as they knew. Laluli truly believed himself to be putting the moves on the purpleblooded stud, believed he was making such easy headway by his own charm. Laluli suggested they go back to Kothar's place and get to know each other better.

Sometimes the fly leads the spider to the web.

Laluli wrote in his diary about how little patience he had for foreplay. But Kothar brought things to a slow simmer: beverages on far ends of the couch, then a little cuddling, then a kiss. Patient. No rush; art takes time. And what is seduction if not an art?

Laluli set his hand to Kothar's broad, muscular chest and placed kisses along Kothar's neck. Kothar hauled Laluli’s smaller frame onto his lap. Laluli blushed as the illusion of control began to fray. But this strength excited him, and he let himself sink into Kothar's embrace. Strong hand in his hair, Laluli let himself be held close as he paid tribute to the beautiful form before him.

You're so beautiful, Kothar said. I feel like we're really on the same wavelength.

Kothar stole every word from Laluli's mind and fed it back to him. And Laluli let his need rule. He pulled Kothar's tank top off, then piled his own atop it. Locking lips, he pulled Kothar's button and zipper open, shoving a hand in and searching for nook.

Is that what you want, Kothar asked. Do you want to fuck my nook?

Yeah, Laluli whispered, standing. 

His pants and boxers fell around his ankles, and his bulge drooled that perfect sky blue down his thighs. Kothar licked his lips and guided Laluli to the floor.

He straddled Laluli’s bulge, grabbing its tip with one hand and spreading his nook-lips wide with the other. He stuffed the tip into himself and eased his hips down, accepting more and more of its girth. What a lovely stretch, he thought. If only art could always feel this good. Ah, but if it did, anyone could do it.

By now, his nook had swallowed the whole of Laluli’s bulge, and he began to gyrate his hips against Laluli. With a sigh, he smiled, then grinned at his partner. Laluli’s eyes were shut, and his face twitched with every rock of Kothar’s hips. Perfect.

His prey in place, Kothar centered himself and let his gateway open, energy filling his body. Many of his blood caste gave their abilities a vulgar name in tribute to the cult of the Mirthful Messiahs, but to Kothar, it was power, and there was no sense in using a euphemism. Calm focus eased his pathways open from top down, and the pleasure in his nook opened him from bottom up. He made himself a conduit between that which was above and that which was below, and when well-exercised pathways met, the energy poured into him. The focus in his mind swirled with the lust in his nook, and all of him was as one point.

His eyes glowed a faint purple as he once more became conscious of Laluli, whose hands grasped his thighs. Kothar met every upward thrust with a clenching of his nook muscles and a rock of his hips. He ran a thumb down Laluli's cheek. Laluli felt the welcome embrace of Kothar’s nook feed back into his head twofold. He whined and bucked, needy and overwhelmed. And with a choking sound, a sudden, rapid climax overtook him.

Did you just come, asked Kothar, and Laluli flushed.

Yes, said Laluli, I don’t know what happened, I’ve never come that quickly before.

Kothar layered grudging patience over equally feigned disappointment and said that it was fine, and he asked Laluli to finger him. Power made that rejection weigh on Laluli, who agreed. So Kothar lay on his back on the couch, legs spread and dripping sky-blue cum. Laluli started with two fingers and went right for Kothar’s globes, indelicate. Kothar lay a hand on his head, and Laluli found himself inspired: add more fingers. So he did.

Three became four became five, and one hand offered space for its duplicate. Kothar watched the pleasure build in his loins with the same fascination he might have for a particularly beautiful aquarium. Power locked his pleasure down, and he focused on the idea of a lump of clay. Kothar’s flesh became soft and malleable, stretching to accommodate Laluli’s forearms. 

It was amazing, really, how Laluli didn’t realize something impossible was happening as his elbows disappeared into Kothar’s nook, its lips beckoning him further. Next came the head, then the shoulders.

Laluli, for his part, felt content to let this soft, warm place envelop him. It was sort of like coming home. He bent his head, let the yielding flesh pitch him forward and pull him into a fetal position. A laugh; he felt like he was floating as his feet slipped past the greedy lips of Kothar’s nook.

Kothar, his belly massive, took a deep breath and let his power shift once again. A word rang clear throughout his person, a command from the source of the energy that ran through him: devour.

The solid mass of troll lodged in his belly began to soften at the edges. Kothar set a hand on the irregular shape inside of him and reveled in the warmth that digesting a troll radiated through him. It was like a dream or a warm bath. He let himself drift, just a little, caressing his bloat. Soon, his hand found the rounded shape of Laluli's head, now hornless; it was funny to Kothar that the horns and claws dissolved first. 

Between the warmth and the comforting smell of acid devouring troll tissue coming from between his legs, Kothar floated where he lay. But inattentiveness ill befits a predator, and, no longer mesmerized, Laluli began to stir. Kothar felt the stump of a hand press against his insides, weak but willful. Oh, what a lovely feeling, the hopeless desperation of the doomed. What pleasure he could not fully contain echoed through him like noise in a cave, bouncing around and lighting up every corner of him. He grinned, focusing his power on breaking Laluli down all the more quickly.

Soon, the paltry struggling ceased, and Kothar let his nook muscles bear down on their shrinking contents. Acid-etched bones snapped and collapsed. The irregular shape shifted and shrank, and the stretch on Kothar's body abated. That solidness inside of him sloshed more and more until there was more liquid than solid left. Soon, only liquid remained.

Kothar eased himself to his feet and staggered to his studio, weary but with work yet to do. The paint bucket sat in the middle of the floor, and he squatted over it, aiming bulge and nook at its base. And then, he let his pathways close, and his power released.

The pleasure hit like a hundred-foot tungsten bar dropped from orbit, a force that made nuclear weaponry look meek. Kothar felt more sensation than a troll’s body was built to handle. He squealed, squawked, groaned, chirred, cried out, made every sound his throat could make all at once in a nightmare cacophony. His limbs gave out as he sprayed slurry into the bucket. It filled, then spilled over the edge, pouring onto the floor and Kothar’s thighs. And when his orgasm finally abated, when his muscles could tense no longer, he collapsed forward into the puddle of overflowing troll cum.

It would take him some hours to recover his energy enough to paint. Eating an entire troll would do that to you. But as he lay there on the hard floor of his studio, he was pleased to see that he had plenty of that perfect sky-blue paint to work with.


End file.
